


Peekaboo!

by SpaceMatriarchy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Baby Jack Kline, M/M, Meet-Cute, Professor Sam Winchester, Single Parent Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-13 17:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21184295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceMatriarchy/pseuds/SpaceMatriarchy
Summary: Sam meets a toddler on his flight home from a conference.Then he meets the toddler's very handsome daddy.





	Peekaboo!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Daydreaming_Scribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daydreaming_Scribe/gifts).

> This was written for the SPN Genre Bingo. Square: Single Parent AU.  
This was ALSO written as a birthday present for daydreaming_scribe, who, as the kids say, loves daddies.  
Thanks to belabee for the beta!

Sam didn’t understand why people thought academic conferences were, like,  _ fun. _

They were long, and busy, and even when the day’s programming was over, there was still off-the-record networking to be done at the hotel bar. Into the wee hours, even, if you got professor so-and-so from the University of Where The Fuck Ever going on his pet subject. Sure, it wasn’t all stuffy old white dudes humming and hawing about minutiae all day, but they were fun, in their way, only because Sam and most of his peers got to talk at length about things they loved, things they’d dedicated their lives to. Not because they got wasted and hooked up in the convention center bathrooms.

Well.  _ Sam _ didn’t hook up in the convention center bathrooms. And he didn’t believe half the stories his doctoral advisor used to tell.

So when Sam boarded his plane back home from Seattle at 9:10 on a Saturday morning, he was just looking forward to sleeping for 12 hours straight, and then spending Sunday watching Netflix with his brother. No grading papers, no responding to emails, no even  _ thinking _ about the Intro to US History class full of freshmen that he’d been saddled with, or the University of Kansas, or the very concept of  _ time.  _ Then, and only then, would he be human enough to return to social interaction once more.

Sam kicked his backpack under the seat in front of him and buckled his seat belt, settling in for a doublessly fitful nap, but knowing he wasn’t drifting off until the plane was loaded and in the air. 

Still, resting his eyes in the meantime couldn’t hurt. He closed them for a minute. Just a minute.

And when they opened again, there was a little face squished in between the two seats in front of him.

A pudgy, round little face, with big blue eyes and a swish of blond hair falling across his forehead. Four short fingers were curled around the edge of one of the seats, holding on as the little boy watched Sam intently.

“Um…” Sam stammered. He waved at the baby, with an awkward smile. “Hello.”

The little boy giggled and ducked back behind the seat.

Sam found himself grinning. He took a moment to be grateful to the universe for that tiny moment, to take the exhaustion out of him, just a little. Parenthood may not have been one of his big priorities in life, but the laugh of a child had some kind of primal, uplifting power.

Before he had a chance to finish that thought…

“Peekaboo!” The little boy’s face bounced back into view between the two seats.

Sam gasped dramatically and made a shocked face. The little boy giggled again, and again he vanished from sight.

_ Oh,  _ Sam thought.  _ I see. We’ve become adversaries in the great and ancient game of peekaboo. _

This time, Sam waited in anticipation. Three was, of course, the magic number, and he was certain the little boy would appear again. But the kiddo had some patience - he didn’t pop right back out, but instead held Sam in suspense.

“Where did that little boy go?” Sam asked aloud. 

There was a responding giggle from behind the seat. A moment later, the face shot up over the seat back, this time clearly standing on the cushions. “Peekaboo!” The baby squealed through laughter.

“There he is!” Sam replied.

“Jack, leave the man alone,” someone said quietly. A pair of hands came up around the baby’s middle to steady him, and gently guided him to sit back down. A man’s face came into view through the same crack between seats, with eyes and a nose shockingly alike to the toddler’s, but darker hair, and a look of concern and exhaustion where the child had been all open joy. The boy’s father, Sam figured. 

And he was handsome. Not that it mattered. Not that Sam noticed.

“I apologize,” the man said. “He’s very outgoing. We’re working on learning to ask if people want to play, first.”

“Oh, no, I don’t mind,” Sam said. “He’s adorable.”

The man smiled, rather awkwardly, like he wasn’t sure how to respond. “Thank you,” he said. 

“How old?”

“Two and a half,” the man said. The toddler - Jack, evidently - had turned himself back around and was watching Sam again. The man smoothed Jack’s bangs out of his face. “Jack, would you like to say hello?”

Jack ducked back only halfway, like he was shy all of a sudden once he had his father’s attention as well as Sam’s.

“Hello,” Sam said in gentle encouragement.

“Hemmo,” Jack said.

Sam felt his smile go wonky and he stuffed the urge to “aww” out loud. The man smiled down at his son.

“Good job!” He said. “What next?”

Jack looked up at the man, like he wasn’t quite sure what he was being asked. 

“We say ‘hello’--” 

“Hemmo!” Jack squealed.

“Hello, my name is…” The man said, leading his son. “What’s your name?”

“‘ack!”

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” Sam said. “My name is Sam.”

“‘am…” Jack parotted back. “Misser ‘am!”

“That’s right, mister Sam!” Sam said, no longer able to contain his laughter.

A bing-bong chimed over the plane’s speakers, and a woman’s voice began the spiel about seatbelts and not smoking. The man encouraged Jack into his seat and buckled him in.

“If letting him play peekaboo helps,” Sam offered. “Or if you need an extra set of hands, or anything…”

“He’ll probably just watch a movie and take a nap,” the man said. 

Sam laughed. “Sounds like he’s living the life.”

That earned a chuckle from the man, which turned Sam’s heart around just a little. “I appreciate the offer, though,” the man continued. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Sam settled back into his seat, feeling a little warmer, a little lighter. He watched the little glimpses of the boy and his father as they settled in for the flight.

Parenthood wasn’t a priority in Sam’s life plan. Jack was clearly an exceptionally good kid, and the man an exceptionally loving father. And shit, maybe Sam was just pining for the concept of a father-son relationship that didn’t suck.

But something in him had already fallen temporarily in love. Something in him just  _ wanted _ something like that. God, he could almost hear Dean teasing him for the thought.  _ When did your biological clock go off? What’s next, are you gonna start asking your dates if they’re ovulating? _

Oh well, he thought. He put it out of his mind. He leaned his head against the window and shut his eyes.

Little Jack was quiet as the plane took off. He had a drink from a sippy cup to keep his ears from popping too harshly, and the man comforted him when he got fussy. Sam heard this, mostly, trying to force himself to rest and not creep too much on the kiddo and his dad. 

No one had come to claim the empty seat beside Sam, and he took the opportunity to stretch his legs out, too long to usually fly comfortably. He almost,  _ almost _ managed to doze off, fading in and out in long, agonizing stages, unable to determine how long he’d been out or how long they’d been in the air.

When he opened his eyes after one such brief period of almost-sleep, the boy’s little face was peering around the far side of the seat.

“Peekaboo,” Sam whispered. Jack giggled, and ducked back. Sam closed his eyes again.

Then he heard a little metallic clicking. “Jack, it’s important to keep your seatbelt on,” the man said. “Jack. Jack!”

Little feet stomped around the row of seats and when Sam opened his eyes again, it was to see Jack clambering up onto the seat beside him. Sam instantly sat up and withdrew his legs. Jack’s dad careened into the aisle behind him, and stopped up in a bit of a panic.

“I’m so sorry,” he blurted out.

Sam raised his hands placatingly. “Really, really, it’s okay--”

“Baba!” Jack cried. He was standing on the empty seat, looking at the man.

“Yes?” The man asked his son.

Jack grabbed his father’s hand and pulled him into the row with all his little toddler strength - enough to gently lead the man if he allowed himself to be led. Jack leaned against Sam’s shoulder and pulled. The man sighed, looking around, and then looked to Sam with a tired, apologetic look.

“Do you-- may I sit?”

Sam laughed. “Yes, of course.”

The man joined Sam in his row, and Jack promptly sat in his dad’s lap, knocking the wind out of him.

“I’m sorry--”

“Man, you keep saying that,” Sam interrupted. “Please, it’s okay.”

The man let out a breath, a long sigh, and seemed to allow the stress to leave his body. “Thank you, Sam,” he said. “My name is Castiel, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sam said.

Jack excitedly pointed to Sam. “Misser ‘am!” He cried. Sam smiled and gave him a little wave. Still looking at Sam, he pointed back at Castiel. “Baba!”

“Is that so?” Sam asked. He pointed to Castiel. “Baba?”

“Baba!”

Sam pointed to himself. “Mister Sam?”

Jack nodded vigorously.

“And who’s this?” Sam asked, gently poking the little boy in the chest. 

“‘ack!” Jack giggled.

Sam spent the next hour chatting with Castiel, and playing peekaboo and clapping rhythm games with Jack. The little boy had seemingly endless energy - which Sam figured was just a trait inherent to two year olds. Sometimes he sat in his dad’s lap. Sometimes he stood on the seat while Castiel clearly had a mild, quiet panic attack about it and held onto his middle. Eventually, he turned himself around to play the same ‘patty cake’ clapping game with Cas, and he sat in Sam’s lap.

The toddler was clearly trying to muffle some suspicious little yawns, by then. It wasn’t long after that that Jack got a little fussy, for just a minute, and curled up as best as he could in the space between Sam’s chest and the seatback in front of them. 

Jack was asleep in minutes, breathing softly against Sam’s chest. Sam found himself running his thumb over Jack’s arm. The little boy was so soft. So damn  _ sweet.  _

Parenthood wasn’t a priority in Sam’s life, but this kid was making him yearn. Just a little.

“Thank you for your patience,” Castiel said softly, when they were sure Jack was asleep. 

“Thank you for letting him play with me,” Sam said. “He’s a really sweet kid.”

“Do you have children?” Castiel asked.

Sam sighed. “No,” he said. “I’d like to, maybe, but I don’t know. A lot of baggage. No time to date, less chance as a bi dude of the person I’m dating being both capable  _ and _ interested in getting pregnant…”

“Though I suppose ‘capable’ comes into it less and less, these days,” Castiel said. “If you’re interested, there’s certainly always a way. Even without a partner-- I’m alone, too. And Jack isn’t my biological child.”

Sam felt his face twist in confusion. “Really?” He asked. “He looks just like you.”

“People do say that a lot,” Castiel said. “It would be convenient if I was planning on lying to him about the adoption, but no. No, it’s just coincidence.”

“Huh,” Sam muttered. “So you… you just wanted to be a dad?”

Castiel sighed. Sam immediately wished he’d backed off earlier - Castiel’s mood took a harsh turn and all of a sudden, he seemed terribly burdened, the air between them heavy. “His mother was a very good friend,” he said. “She and I lived together after she ran away from his biological father. He can’t be allowed custody of Jack - ideally, he won’t even know he exists. It was a risky pregnancy, but Kelly wanted to see it through, so we made legal arrangements, just in case Jack made it and she didn’t. And thank goodness we did.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said. “That must be very difficult.”

“I try to remember that Kelly chose to take on that risk for Jack,” he said. “As sad as it is, the tragedy of Kelly’s death also gave me my son. And all I can do for her is to keep my promises to care for him.”

Sam looked down at the toddler. “For what it’s worth,” he said. “You seem to be doing a very good job.”

Castiel smiled sadly at his son. “Thank you,” he said. “For what it’s worth, I’m sure you would, too. If you had a child.”

_ Bing bong. _

“Ladies and gentlemen,” came a flight attendant’s voice over the PA system. “We’re about to begin our final descent into Kansas City. In a moment the captain will be turning the seat belt sign back on, and…”

Castiel went ahead and stood up. “That’s our cue, I’m afraid,” he said. He reached for Jack, who roused as Sam (admittedly reluctantly) handed him back to his father. 

“Mo’ning?” Jack asked, drowsy. He seemed to realize, then, that he was being carried away from his new friend, and started to fuss.

“We’re not going anywhere yet, Jack, it’s alright,” Cas said into the boy’s hair. “We just need to sit down so the pilot can finish taking us home.”

“‘ome?” Jack asked.

“Yes, home,” Cas said. “Remember? Do you remember where you live?”

“‘owse.”

“No, not the house,” Cas clarified. “The city. Remember, city?”

“Mm... Kanz,” Jack mumbled, starting to fall back asleep on Castiel’s shoulder. Sam smiled.

Over Jack’s head, Castiel smiled back at Sam. “Close enough,” he said. “And, uh, Sam?”

“Yes?”

“Not that you need my opinion,” Cas began. “But if I’ve learned anything in the last few years, it’s that our time is very precious. Too much so to waste it on milestones that don’t bring us joy, but also too much so not to chase the things we truly want in life. I don’t know which category fatherhood falls into, for you, but I know… I know that when the time comes,  _ you’ll _ know.”

And that… that was a bit to think on.

Sam settled himself back into his seat, tightened up his seatbelt, and gazed absently out the window for the next twenty minutes or so as the ground slowly came closer and closer. 

Would he really know? He hadn’t met anyone he’d even want to start a family with since the death of a girlfriend years ago, when he’d still been an undergrad. 

His life since then had been… well, he hadn’t since let himself forget that his family couldn’t really look like the picture perfect nuclear family. He had his brother. His brother was the only family that had ever mattered to him. Their dad had sucked, and maybe he saw too much of his dad in Dean, in  _ himself,  _ and maybe if he had a kid, he’d just make another childhood as fucked up as theirs was. How was he supposed to know he  _ wanted _ to raise a kid? How was he supposed to know he was  _ suited _ for it? What if he just wasn’t built to be a good father?

Not that it mattered. Not that he had anyone, these days, who’d want him to be a husband, let alone a dad.

Sam’s thoughts were interrupted when the plane finally rolled to a stop at the gate, and a million little ‘click’s echoed around him as just about everyone on the plane simultaneously decided to stand up and rush for the exit. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Castiel retrieved a diaper bag from the overhead compartment and slung it over his shoulder, standing in the aisle. 

He wondered if he should say something. Before they leave. Before they’re gone forever. 

He decided against it. 

As the line in the aisle started to move up ahead, Sam realized that while he’d been watching Castiel out the corner of his eye, Cas had been doing the same. This became abundantly obvious when, having hiked Jack up onto his shoulder, he turned and addressed Sam directly.

“Have a safe trip home, Sam,” Castiel said with a small smile, and he turned and walked down the aisle out of the airplane, Jack ever asleep against his shoulder.

There was an inexplicable feeling of loss, of absence, that Sam felt watching them go. Just a few short hours with a very cute kid and a very kind man, and suddenly Sam’s whole life felt recontextualized. Like something had been missing the whole time and he just hadn’t allowed himself to notice.

It didn’t matter, though, Sam thought as he hiked his backpack over his shoulder and joined the slow, single file shuffle towards the cabin door. Maybe he’d do better. Maybe he’d put more effort in. Maybe he’d realize that kids, and a family, weren’t an unattainable ideal and start dating with that in mind. Maybe someday.

But today, he would go home, sleep for twelve hours, and wake up only to watch Netflix with his brother. Just as he’d planned. All the family he needed, right?

Sam made his way through the airport to the baggage claim area, and stood back to wait for his suitcase, killing time by checking the texts and work emails he’d received while in the air. It felt good to stretch his legs. To breathe non-recycled air.

He was in the middle of texting Dean to let him know he’d landed when his eye caught on a figure across the baggage carousel, watching passively as the first few pieces of luggage rattled down onto the conveyor belt. Tall, dark hair, leaning on a stroller in which was seated a little blond boy.

Castiel was a little more handsome, even, when his body wasn’t bent into a small space, and the ancient lights weren’t washing out his complexion.

It would have been weird to go over there, though. All things considered, even if they’d talked, Sam wasn’t their  _ friend.  _ They’d said their goodbyes. They were as good as strangers now. 

Still, Sam couldn’t take his eyes off them. Something about the sight of them made him feel comfortable. Deep, deep in his soul, it felt right. 

Castiel spotted him.

_ Oh, fuck, _ Sam thought, but all Cas did was offer a little wave. Sam waved back. Jack looked confused, babbling at his dad, but they were far too distant from Sam for him to make out any of their conversation. Castiel pointed, and when Jack finally spotted Sam, the baby boy started practically vibrating in his stroller, waving his arm with his whole body and bouncing in place. Sam smiled, and gave another wave in return.

Castiel spoke again to Jack, and then gently held him into his stroller when Jack tried to get up. Jack settled down, a bit, enough so that when Cas seemed to spot their luggage, he made the horrible mistake of turning his back on the toddler.

Sam could have spotted the disaster from a mile away. The instant Castiel’s back was turned, Jack was on his little feet, waddling full speed through the crowd as he made his way around the baggage carousel. Cas, at least, noticed the disappearance too late to prevent it, but before Jack was out of sight. He dropped the bag and ran after his child, ducking and weaving around adults as Jack, giggling, moved right on through between pairs of legs.

“‘am!” Jack cried, breaking through the last gathering of people and careening into Sam’s leg. “Misser ‘am!” 

“Woah, buddy!” Sam exclaimed. He almost bent to pick the child up, but the bear hug Jack was giving his calf made him worry about accidentally kneeing him in the face. “Hey, you’re scaring your daddy!”

Right on cue, Castiel arrived, and dropped to his knees without hesitation to get on his son’s level, taking him by the arm. A little out of breath and clearly upset.

“Jack, don’t do that!” He exclaimed, not shouting at the kid, but failing to keep the fear out of his voice. “You could get hurt, do you understand?”

Jack’s good mood evaporated, realizing something was wrong, even if he couldn’t quite figure out what with his limited language skills.

“I’m sure Mister Sam is a very good man, but sometimes people who seem nice aren’t,” Castiel continued. “So you have to stay with me so I can keep you safe, understand?” Jack just looked up him, confused and scared. “Do you understand, Jack? Understand?”

Jack started to tear up and shook his head. Something let go in Castiel, let loose the desperation and fear, and he brought his son in for a hug.

“I’m sorry, Jack, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said quietly.

Sam knelt down with them, hoping just to help in whatever way he could. “Castiel, I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s not your fault,” Cas said, wiping one of his eyes before bunching up one of his shirt sleeves to clean up Jack’s face, though the boy was still crying. “I’m just… I just panicked. It’s alright.”

“It’s reasonable,” Sam said. 

“Baba,” Jack said, still sniffling. “Misser ‘am, baba.”

“What’s that, Jack?” Castiel asked. “I don’t understand.”

Jack toddled over to grab onto Sam’s arm, hugging for dear life like he had Sam’s leg a minute earlier. “Misser ‘am, baba.”

“I know, Mister Sam is gonna miss you, too,” Sam said gently. “But it’s time to go home, now.”

“‘am, baba!” Jack repeated, with increasing desperation.

Sam was lost. He looked to Castiel, who’s face had utterly fallen. When he looked up, it was with soft sadness, but he forced a smile. “He, um, he seems to want you,” Cas said. “Would you mind watching him, just while I get the stroller and bags? Just a moment.”

Sam nodded helplessly. He guessed Castiel was taking the same gut punch of understanding from Jack’s limited words as Sam was.

When Castiel stood, however, Jack instantly detached himself from Sam, and chased after his dad, almost more inconsolably upset than before. “Baba!” He wailed. It stopped Cas in his tracks, and he crouched down once more.

“So you  _ do _ want to stay with baba?” Castiel asked Jack, and Jack nodded. “Mister Sam can’t come home with us, Jack, he has his own family.”

Jack reached over and fisted his hand in Sam’s shirt while gripping Castiel’s hand. “Want.... baba, misser ‘am. Stay.”

Sam slowly began to understand. It was ridiculous. It was a child’s fantasy that everyone could all be friends and live together all the time. He wondered if Jack did this to every adult he met.

And then he thought… When you know, you know, right?

“What if Mister Sam comes to visit?” Sam offered, addressing himself to Jack, but looking at Castiel, who had become confused. “If your baba says it’s okay, I’ll visit.”

Cas squinted at him. “Actually?” He asked in a whisper. “Or as a white lie?”

Sam shrugged. “I mean, I don’t live far outside KC,” he said. “I’m in town pretty often. But if you don’t want me to--”

“I do,” Castiel said, blurting out the words like he couldn’t say them fast enough. “I mean… I’m sure it would make Jack very happy.” Cas looked down again, redirecting his attention to his son. “Jack, would it be okay if Mister Sam went home now and saw you next week?”

Jack looked back and forth between the two adults, not quite cluing in. 

“If you can be a brave boy about saying goodbye today, I promise to take you and your baba to the living history museum next week?” Sam said, almost doubting himself as he said it. He looked to Cas for some kind of confirmation.

“The living history museum?” Castiel asked.

Sam shrugged awkwardly. “I can give you a tour? I work with them a lot,” he offered. “There’s... There’s bison? Jack, do you wanna see the bison?”

“A bizzin,” Jack repeated back. Sam didn’t get the impression the kid had any clue what that meant.

“Like a big, furry cow,” Castiel clarified.

Jack’s face lit up and he started mooing enthusiastically. “Baba! Go cow!” He cried, jumping up and down, his tears at the idea of saying goodbye to Sam utterly forgotten. “Moo cow!”

“Soon, Jack,” Cas said, taking Jack into his arms. He looked at Sam as he spoke. “Maybe, next Saturday?”

“It’s a date,” Sam said with a smile.

Castiel’s expression was guarded, though. He hesitated. “If mister Sam is really sure,” he said. “As long as he knows he’s under no obligation. If he doesn’t want to.”

“You know,” Sam said. “I’d really love to. I’d love to get to know you better. Both of you.”

Cas smiled shyly, breaking their eye contact and looking down. “I’d like that,” he said.

Sam stood, and Castiel followed his lead, scooping Jack up and onto his shoulder as the baby boy kept babbling nonsense and mooing, occasionally. Sam dug into his jacket pocket and found a loose business card, one of the ones the university had printed up for all the faculty. He handed it over to Castiel. “You can just drop me a line, sometime this week, we’ll sort something out?”

Cas nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for all of this.”

Sam smiled, and patted Jack gently on the shoulder to get his attention. “Like you said,” Sam said, and let his fingers linger over Castiel’s for an instant before pulling his hand back. “When you know, you know.” He waved goodbye to Jack. The boy waved back, leaning into his daddy’s chest. 

Something clicked in Cas’ brain, and it flickered in his eyes. He ducked his head, for just a moment, before looking back up at Sam.

“Then I look forward to seeing you,” he said. 

Sam couldn’t stop smiling.

“Say bye bye to mister Sam, Jack,” Castiel said, turning his attention to the little boy. Jack waved again. 

“Goo’bye,” he sang. Sam waved back.

He made eye contact with Cas one more time, and then turned to the carousel - his bag having arrived - and left to retrieve it. To go home.

For now, at least.

Dean’s big black car pulled up to the loading area outside the airport doors, and Dean hopped out to get the trunk before Sam could even say hello. 

“Get in,” Dean said, taking Sam’s suitcase out of his hand. “I hate this friggin’ pick up system, let’s go before my baby gets sideswiped.”

Sam wasn’t about to argue any scenario that had Dean taking his bags like some kind of very angry chauffeur, and let himself into the passenger side with a derisive scoff. A moment after he slammed it shut behind him, the whole car rattled with the force of the trunk shutting, and an instant after that, Dean was crawling back into the driver’s seat. He practically fumbled the keys trying to get them into the ignition as fast as physically possible.

“It’s not a race, Dean,” Sam sighed.

Dean looked over, his mouth already open to bitch at Sam, but he stopped short.

“What happened?” Dean asked.

“What?” Sam asked. A nervous laugh bubbled up into his throat without his consent.

“You just got off an almost four hour flight, and you look like you just got laid,” Dean said. Connecting some very incorrect dots in his head, clearly, his expression shifted. “Wait. Did you join the mile high club?”

“No!” Sam laughed. “Jesus, no. I just… I just met someone really cool.”

Dean grinned. “Dude or chick?”

“Not like that,” Sam said. “There was a really cute kid on my flight. Wanted to play peekaboo.”

Dean sighed. “Is your biological clock going off, Sam?” He asked. “You’re gonna start nesting? Because no way in hell is that enough to make you look like you’re love-drunk.”

“Okay, fine - a cute little kid  _ and _ his good looking dad,” Sam added.

Dean’s smile returned, and he laughed, sitting back in his seat. He turned the ignition. “There it is.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Sam said.

“Oh, no, I’m not gonna be a dick,” Dean said. “I’m gonna be a step-uncle.”

Sam rolled his eyes, and the car pulled out into traffic.


End file.
